


Arrows to our Hearts

by dr_zook



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, The Odyssey - Homer
Genre: F/M, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Meet the Family, POV Outsider, courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27920533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_zook/pseuds/dr_zook
Summary: Brazier fire dances over his russet curls, as he animatedly spins another yarn about the rich wonders of his murky and probably quite cold home island at the northern edge of civilization. Clytemnestra stifles a yawn. "Tell me you're not serious about him," she mouths at her sister across the table.
Relationships: Agamemnon/Clytemnestra (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Odysseus/Penelope (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 45
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Arrows to our Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [betony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betony/gifts).



> Dear recipient, I hope this is kind of what you were looking for! I had quite a blast writing this. :3
> 
> A thousand ♥s for L., for without them it would be unreadable.

Brazier fire dances over his russet curls, as he animatedly spins another yarn about the rich wonders of his murky and probably quite cold home island at the northern edge of civilization. Clytemnestra stifles a yawn. "Tell me you're not serious about him," she mouths at her sister across the table.

Helen's eyes are twinkling dangerously, but she's rather entertained than enthralled. A quick raise of her brow tells Clytemnestra there's nothing to worry about that jester from Ithaca. Who didn't even bother to bring gifts for any of them, not even for Helen. The impudence!

The lord of Mycenae on the other hand, he's not too bad. Yet he's not here on his own behalf, but his brother's. She knows his brother is neither a cripple nor tattered and grey: both have spent a few years at her father's court, exiled from their throne. They have been impeccable guests, and made such an impression on her father that he even helped them regain their inheritance.

"They would be good neighbours," king Tyndareus had said. "Strong-willed and strong-handed." Having once been exiled himself from home and throne clearly made him favour the brothers.

"Tell me, Agamemnon," she says now to the king sitting opposite, just loud enough for his ears. "You and your brother are sharing the throne, am I right?"

He swallows his bite, dabs at his mouth and turns toward her. "Yes we do, princess," he answers politely. "Thanks to your lord father's generous help. May his house and land thrive and flourish!" There is a palpable wave of strength and fierceness rolling from his broad shoulders.

She huffs, eyes narrow. "Are you planning on sharing one queen as well, then?"

It's a good thing he's well mannered enough to not drink while talking; otherwise he would have sprayed wine across the table. He coughs, "Of course not."

"Then tell me, what are you scheming? Why isn't Menelaos here with us, standing his ground? Why is he sending you, whose station is above his? Has he lost his hair already?"

Agamemnon stares at her, his eyes flit from her broadly set shoulders to the fringe of her knee-short chiton. It's clear that he's not used to women addressing him like that, asking such questions. To women trained to fight, women demanding more than the right to prattle idle over their loom, demanding the right to worldly talk.

Then he bursts into rumbling laughter that makes his belly quiver. "I like the way you think and talk, princess. I think we'll get along fine."

* * *

Polydeuces kicks him straight in the guts, ah no, a bit higher-- straight below his rib cage, and while Castor's sniggering infects their sisters Odysseus sinks to his knees, wheezing for air. It's not as if he never saw it coming.

"Enough?" the brute asks him with a divine smile, clasping Odysseus' bruised jaw in his ribboned hand. A glint in his eyes betrays he's overjoyed. 

Odysseus coughs twice and plucks Polydeuces' paw from him. "Alright, alright," he says. "I have heard so many stories about you, I had to see for myself!" Then he just flops on his back, sprawled like a peasant shepherd's boy after frolicking with the young lamb, and takes loud, deep breaths.

"Idiot." Polydeuces pats him awkwardly, a little too close to his groin, and gets up. 

"Next up is bow and arrow! That's my specialty, I swear," Odysseus rasps, but the others just roll their eyes, and with a tilt of her proud head Clytemnestra orders her siblings back to their father's court. Twigs and stones are poking his kidneys.

There is a rustle close to his ear and he squints against the sun as it peers through the olive grove foliage. Above him, sitting on the back of her calves, orderly arranged like the proper daughter of a king, Penelope is looking down at him.

"I trust I delivered the fight that you were hoping for, princess," he purls. "You Spartan women are surely eager for it."

She cannot hide her smile behind her shawl. "I'm not exactly like my cousins. I wasn't raised with them, you see." Penelope reaches for the water skin and wets a corner of her gown. "Stay still," she says as she starts dabbing at Odysseus' battered brow. 

"Ouch," he hisses. "You don't have to."

"But I want to." Penelope's wipes are sure, yet not too rough. The plaits falling over one shoulder are dusted with dark-green powders, and their tips are brushing at Odysseus' bare ribs. He idly wonders if the savage brothers decide by drawing straws who's allowed to beat up the next suitor.

"You do know that I had worse?"

She hums, and continues.

Odysseus closes his eyes again. "And do you know that when I arrived at your uncle's court I didn't understand why all the others were flocking around your cousin?" A grin tugs at his split lip. "Because they said, 'Helen is the most beautiful woman alive, and she's looking for a husband,' and it didn't make sense, because I saw _you_ standing beside her, and they didn't even greet you." 

"Is that so." 

"You don't believe me?" He rises onto his elbows, feigning indignation. The colour of her eyes is a shaly blue, and there are freckles strewn across her cheekbones.

Penelope spreads the damp part of her gown to make it dry quicker. "No," she says. "I believe you're well acquainted with the brothers from Mycenae. You are well acquainted with my father, the islands of your kingdom are situated across his shores." She pushes him gently on his back, resting her hand on his sternum. 

His heart beneath is galloping, but he stays still, watching her.

"I believe," she continues, observing him with an owl's steady gaze, "that you made a deal with the brothers. You were never really interested in winning Helen. But you are making yourself indispensable for everybody. My uncle depends on you to entertain the other suitors, to keep them in good spirit. So Agamemnon can court not only Helen in his brother's name, but also her sister for himself. If that works out, without making enemies, you can ask for almost anything from any of them."

Odysseus' insides are doing a slow flip. Warmth is spreading through the vessels of his blood, his muscles; he smiles fondly. "And would you know what I asked for?"

She makes an encouraging, yet asking sound. 

"I would ask your father for your hand eventually," he says. "But right now I'm asking you for your hands: could you please put your palms over my closed eyes? It would stop my mind from running endlessly. I could use a bit of a rest." 

Penelope complies, and he can sense how her shawl draws like a curtain around them as she leans down to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is snagged from the OLD MAN GLOOM album _Ape of God_ (2014); if you're curious about the rest of the lyrics: [they kind of fit](http://www.darklyrics.com/lyrics/oldmangloom/theapeofgod25418.html#4). Well, says Clytemnestra. :D
> 
> As a reminder, the dramatis personae:
> 
> Tyndareus: king of Sparta  
> Helen, Clytemnestra, Polydeuces & Castor: Tyndareus' children  
> Agamemnon & Menelaos: brothers; kings of Mycenae  
> Penelope: princess of Arcania, Tyndareus' niece  
> Odysseus: king of Ithaca (= island(s)/kingdom across the shores of Arcania)
> 
> This can be read with or without acknowledging gods begetting children; there are certainly allusions to gods/goddesses playing their parts here. Apart from that: NO GODS NO MASTERS. ;)


End file.
